Konoha Press
by Lillypop414
Summary: When you're told your hotter than a halfcaf nonfat Venti affogato espresso cappuccino, you're stuck with a choice on whether you should fire your assistant or make out with her. Sasuke leaned back into his office chair, sighing. Decisions, decisions...SS
1. Chapter 1

**Konoha Press**

_lillypop414_

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* * *

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Sakura Haruno! _Noun_

(**coolness level**: higher than the temperature of the sun on a vacation to a Texan desert in the middle of freaking August!

**interests: **Justin Bieber, shopping, dancing, texting, talking, hanging out, and, above all, being awesome.

**threat status**: intern.)

1. A beautiful teenage girl, interning at _Konoha Press_.

2. Weird female that has a tendency to go wacko. Sometimes.

3. For friends and relationships see _Yamanaka Ino, Yukabushi TenTen, _and _Hyuuga Hinata_

_**-**__**SNAP-**_Photo

Pink hair pulled into a messy bun, butterfly and flower clips holding back loose wisps and bangs. Brilliant smile. Flashing pastel green eyes.

Smiley face painted onto left cheek, right hand up with fore and middle fingers making a peace sign.

Hip pocked out, tongue escaping cherry lips.

Background: Annual Konoha Fall Festival, Ferris wheel

* * *

_**Issue One**_

_"I think your hotter than a Half-Caf Nonfat Venti Affogato Espresso Cappuccino."_

* * *

Dear important people at _Konoha Press_,

My name is Haruno Sakura and I am applying to be an intern at your wonderful business. I am currently a senior at Konoha High School for the Elite, and I have written several front-page columns for The Leaflet.

Unlike most people, I had no idea that your business was in search of a worthy, intelligent intern such as myself.

…I was actually on Google searching for Justin Bieber tickets selling for half price this weekend.

* * *

A tall building with reflecting, sparkling, no doubt squeaky clean mirror-like glass with steely silver support beams bordering each square window stood high above the petite girl with a green, blue, and purple tote bag poised onto her frail shoulder.

She heaved the bag higher, taking another once-over of the building with the proud name of Konoha Pressing Headquarters on the side in big professional letters, the address directly underneath the fancy name.

A wave of apprehension splashed her over. Why would the people who worked here even _consider_ her half way eligible toward all of their expectations? She was eighteen, just barely a graduate of her final year in high school, and here she was. Already having a job with a big name.

She sighed, shaking the thought of her head, for it would undoubtedly lead to more thoughts that would make her feel like she wasn't ready, as if she were under-qualified, and that would send her confidence soaring downward.

So, a girl named Sakura Haruno decided, she was going to push the fancy looking revolving doors with a wide smile planted onto her bright face, she was going to walk with her head up and chest out, but of course not to far out, and she _was_ going to pass everyone's expectations, including her own.

Why?

Because that guy sitting in the lobby with his legs crossed, expensive and sleek black shoe bobbing up and down as he shook it, a Grande sized cup of Starbucks coffee in one hand, the newest issue of the _Konoha Press_ newspaper in the other hand…was _steaming_ hot.

There was no way she would even _let_ herself fail now.

_"Do you want extra cream with that whipping!"_

"Name?" The woman at the front desk asked, leaning heavily to the left, toward the side where she had propped her elbow, hand lazily twirling fiery red hair in between her thin fingers. She chewed on her gum at a slow interval, no more than two chomps for every five seconds, and her vermillion eyes seemed bored and unfocused.

Sakura smiled, proudly informing, "I'm Haruno Sakura, the new intern."

The redhead blew a bubble, the pink candy stretching wide, completely covering her face, yet somehow she kept it from popping all over, getting stuck in her hair. Once the long task was over, she adjusted her thickly rimmed black glasses, seemingly peering over a list that was hidden by the desk.

Minutes later Karin—or as so her nametag deemed—pouted, clapping her hands together in sadness. "Aw, it seems that your name isn't on the list, sweetie pie. Why don't you go down to Aéropastle and find out if they're hiring?"

Sakura's face fell out of her grin, rosy eyebrows locking in a confused furrow while she biting her lightly glossed bottom lip. She dug through her bag and pulled out an acceptance letter, pointing to it almost furiously. "But I got the letter! Why would I even bother _driving _downtown on a Saturday if the CEO of the company himself requested I come into work as an intern as soon as I possibly could?"

Judging by the blank look currently inhabiting itself on Karin's face, Sakura felt a sudden weight of stupidity cover her. How could she be so naïve to arrive at the building less than twenty-four hours after the mail had landed in her apartment's PO box? She should have known in the world of business that as soon as possible meant, not honestly as soon as possible, more like two to three days later.

However, if that were the case, why did it seem so overpoweringly _wrong_ for her to think that way?

The rosette rubbed her cheek before pulling a loose strand of hair from her bun behind her ear. She breathed deeply, releasing a small sigh. She turned on her heel, about to walk away, but she turned back quickly, tinkering back to the desk, slapping her hands onto the counter.

Not even caring to hide her desperation, she asked, "Are you _sure_ my name isn't on there? I mean, like, one hundred percent sure?"

Karin, of whom had her finger pressed to her ear, most likely in the middle of a phone conversation on her earpiece or something of the sort, sneered at Sakura. She muttered, "May you hold a moment, ma'am…yes, I do assure that you will be the first onto the line when I return…I—I freaking get your problem, okay, but I am not _Kami_, nor am I your freaking therapist!"

She jammed a manicured finger on the 'END' button located on the earpiece, and stared.

"Can I help you _again_?" The redhead drawled, wine eyes rolling in the epitome of boredom. To make her point more evident, she popped another bubblegum bubble.

A looming shadow blocked all light behind Sakura, casting darkness over practically all of Ms. Karin's reception area, and a tremor of heat ran up and down Sakura's back when a rumbling, deep voice exited the figure.

"Tell me rule number seven oh six three, Karin." He ordered, voice obviously lacking patience, gallons of threat and irritability poured into his already menacingly cold aura.

The redhead stumbled over her words, giggling, smiling, gulping away nervousness, and then frowning, happiness and fear taking turns flashing through her eyes, though a blush stayed permanent on her thin face. Finally, she decided on sighing, plopping her head on her hand in defeat.

Like a monotone she recited, "Faculty rule number seven hundred and sixty three states that the customer is always right, and if they are in no way correct in their accusation, we must not stop until we find a way to make them correct."

A tall man revealed himself from behind Sakura, a printed-paper folded under his arm and a familiar, yet empty coffee cup in his palm. He wore a no doubt freshly ironed black suit, crisply folded linen white shirt with miniscule details, so small like the complimenting stitching, a dark blue tie looped around his neck, and a shiny pair of leather shoes played on his feet.

Sakura started making these observations from the bottom up, stopping abruptly at the man's face, pale ivory skin and perfect model features, high cheekbones and finely arched eyebrows. Dark, mysterious, aloof yet serious eyes clouded over with something that made you wonder what it was, and ebony bangs barely touched his strong chin.

He flashed those eyes in her direction, looking almost through her, and she blushed, suddenly aware of how high his position at the headquarters _had_ to be if he could afford the Valentino attire along with those _shoes_, and the fact that she had, in all honesty, checked him out.

And she was still.

"Excuse me," he murmured, dark eyes penetrating, "but Karin has problems helping other females that happen to be more attractive than she is."

For a moment, Sakura wondered if that was an inadvertent compliment, or if her mind was just buzzing on haywire from being so close to sex embodied in a person.

The man continued, leaning into the receptionist's desk, a cocky smirk spreading across his lips.

"Come with me."

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_**a/n: **_IDK about this…I was just bored and at a lock with my other story (Check it out!) so I started writing this. The life of the story continuing depends, of course, on user response and reviews. Anonymous reviews are officially accepted from me, so good or bad feedback is totally alright for me.

Just be nice. :)

~Lillypop414

_**Review, loves!**_


	2. Chapter 2

Konoha Press

_lillypop414_

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Sasuke Uchiha _Noun_

(**coolness level**: IF SUPERNOVA HAD AN ANTI THEN HE WOULD BE SEVENTY-BILLION TIMES COOLER!

**interests: **under study

**threat status**: CEO; boss guy; unearthly gorgeous)

1. Second born son of the creator of Konoha Press

2. Newly appointed CEO, only after his elder brother refused position

3. For annoyances in his life, see _Uzumaki Naruto, Hyuuga Neji _and _Nara Shikamaru_

_**-**__**SNAP- **_Photo

_A photo is unavailable due to the fact that _Uchiha Sasuke _does not allow pictures to be taken of him. Legally._ (To see pictures, videos, and more of Uchiha Sasuke, visit dot com)

Background: N/A

* * *

_**Issue Two**_

_"I like it when you push the print button like that."_

* * *

I can do tons of stuff for the office, depending on what you want me to do.

I know the fastest way to Dunkin Donuts and back, the fact that I wear heels to work deters my speedy speed none, and, due to my job of being a waitress a summer ago, my memorization skills are, seriously, top notch.

Now, thinking that you don't want an intern to be your assistant—I watch TV; I know that most businesses don't have an intern for reason besides that—I, like I've mentioned before, know how to write. Even though it doesn't seem like it right now, I do have serious beast monster skills.

That I can guarantee.

So, please please please hire/intern me!

Haruno Sakura

* * *

Sakura spun around in her own fancy leather tall back office chair, subconsciously kicking her short little legs to give her the necessary punch when the chair started slowing down significantly. She was alone in the huge meeting hall, a wall made completely of mirror and glass directly across from her, displaying Downtown Konoha's beautiful skyline and busy life with blimps, airplanes, and helicopters decorating the cerulean blue, cloudless summer sky. Rising just as high as those air crafts were the buildings, the oldest cement and brick, newer sporting modern and sleek, sharp designs that mocked that of the newspaper headquarter and it's blueprints.

If she were to stop spinning and look out the window, past the extravagant buildings but down, down to the epicenter of life were people, swarms of people walked in groups, some wearing bright, distinguishable colors like orange and yellow, while others decided to pass by without casting much attention on themselves, donning neutral colors such as brown, gray and black.

But, alas, Ms. Haruno was at her happiest spinning in the fancy chair, brilliant viridian eyes closed as she giggled, smiling openly in happiness, tote bag containing her (admittedly amateur) work forgotten on the dark gray carpeted flooring. She could hardly believe what was happening to her, or the things that could, if opportunity allowed. She could be _known_, known outside the small walls of her high school, debuted to the entire world for how simply great she was at her craft.

Of course, later on when she wasn't distracting herself, she would be wildly nervous with just that thought, feeling like a small fish in an ocean full of sharks, or a freshmen coming into the school year late. She knew that eventually she would have to admit to herself that, if she weren't ready for it, she definitely didn't _feel_ ready.

People had to be far more qualified than she was. The only articles she ever wrote were Dear Abby's and Gossip Corners.

…That didn't matter, though; she tried to remind herself, at least not right now, that that little miniscule bit of information that she left out wasn't of importance. Right now, she was in a fancy headquarters meeting hall spinning around in circles in one of their fancy headquarters meeting hall leather chairs, and she was…

"Having fun?"

She stopped abruptly, gripping the armrests of the chair as she jerked upward, almost flying out of the seat altogether. Her eyes shot open, emerald irises shrinking to a shocked size, and her heart raced.

Ahead of her, hands spread casually over papers laid out on the long glass table, was whom she assumed to be an Uchiha, only of knowledge that only members in that family had access to this room whenever need be. He seemed to be reading over one of the sheets, coal black eyes calculative on the ink, and Sakura took this time to calm herself down, straightening in the chair and rubbing away any wrinkles in her clothing.

Her breathing had finally calmed minutes later when the same voice reiterated, the owner of said voice's eyes focused on nothing but solely on her.

He licked his lips. "Well? Were you having fun?"

Sakura suddenly felt like prey under the watch of a very hungry hawk, and underneath the (see through) table, she fiddled with her fingers out of nerves, keeping her face—hopefully—blank and completely professional. The feat was especially difficult seeing as she was caught in the act of doing something particularly childish in a very adult place.

Clearing her throat, Sakura replied. "In all honesty, yes, I was Uchiha-sama, but—"

A smirk split across his face as he took a seat, still reading over an article, but shortly it disappeared, his face reverting to its previous unreadable mask.

"My _father_ is Uchiha-sama, Ms. Haruno."

Sakura nodded solely to herself, keeping that bit of information that seemed dreadfully important considering the serious tone he put on in her mental database, preparing herself to apologize, only to realize something. "How do you know who I am?" She asked.

Seconds later, her question still lingered in the air conditioned atmosphere.

_"Why is there caramel, chocolate, and vanilla in my coffee? Do I look like I want this?"_

He was staring at her, Sakura noted, a slight shiver passing through her body at discovering this fact, and she really did want to look away, but it was one of those moments when you're not sure if averting your eyes would be the most…professional, friendly, or smart thing to do, when the person is someone you barely know.

Then again, she thought, some people just stare. It's a terrible habit, and an extremely freakish one to have, especially if you're on the receiving end of said staring, but all habits can be broken with hard work.

A clock upon the wall made itself known, echoing ticks ricocheting off the nearly bare off-white walls.

Slowly, an ebony eyebrow quirked itself upward, and a blank look phased onto obsidian eyes. "You don't remember me?"

If this were anyone else, in any other situation, Sakura would've considered the tone in his voice disbelief, possible shock, and draining pride. As if he thought that, it was strictly impossible and highly unlikely that any one person on the face of this Earth could forget who he was.

Just as the words left his voice, Sakura licked her lips self consciously, peering intently at the person across from her. Scrutinizing she realized some similarities between him and this one person in her English I class back in freshman year, and his hair did have the same sheen and hold as a boy who somehow always got third seat in the third row every semester during sophomore year in her math class. He rather held the same posture of surety and confidence as this person in Gai-sensei's PE class…

A loud banging noise disrupted her train of thought, and her head reflexively whipped in the direction of the doorway, which was swinging wide open. A blonde, tan, tall male strolled into the room, balancing a tray of coffee in one hand, a fresh batch of donuts in the other. Freckles dotted his cheeks almost childishly, and his sea blue eyes seemed like they were always so readable and friendly. He turned his blue baseball cap backwards, a light film of sweat covered his forehead, and a cherry red tongue stuck out of his lips in concentration.

He kicked the door closed with his foot, and he stared aggregately at the dark-haired, well-dressed man who was well on the way to glaring at the blonde boy.

"I am not your freaking maid!" He pronounced with a tired acid on his tongue, gracelessly plopping the coffees and doughnuts on the glass table. He wiped his hands on his faded orange tee-shirt, continuing while numbering out each reason with his fingers, "I'm not gay, so I'm not your wife, I'm not your assistant, either, and the last time I freaking checked, I own _testicles_, so I can't be your mother! SO TELL ME TEME, tell me why I am running around in 90 degree weather getting _you_ your coffee!"

Sakura stared blankly at the exchanged, a smile rising onto her lips at realization. "Naruto-kun?" She started slowly, almost not sure of herself.

The blonde glanced at the rosette, and then grinned from ear to ear, cheering. "OH MY GOD! Sakura-chan! How ya been? It's been, like, I don't know, forever since I saw you!"

He watched while Naruto rushed over to Sakura, stealing a seat beside her, talking and laughing as if they were long lost best friends, a small sneer almost forming on his lips. Sasuke laced his fingers together, wondering why she had remembered _Naruto_ before himself.

_Annoying_, he found himself muttering mentally, running a hand through his spiky hair, leaning into his chair. He sighed. _Very…annoying._

* * *

_**a/n: **_Thank you for all the reviews last chapter! I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations!

I give special thanks to you guys, though!

Thank you _**sasuxsaku lover101**__, __**XxXAsianAsaXxX**__, __**blossom-angel-child**__, __**tsuchiya-sama**__, __**melody-berry2**__, __**SasuSaku Forever and Ever**__, and __**Mannie258**__! _

It's nice to be nice :)

~Lillypop414

Pop Quiz!: What color baseball cap did Naruto have on? _Correct answers get a virtual cookie..._

_**Review, loves!**_


	3. Chapter 3

Konoha Press

_lillypop414_

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Naruto Uzumaki! _Noun_

(**coolness level**: He's so cool that he doesn't even wait for his ramen to cool down when it gets out the microwave.

**interests: **Ramen Noodles, Ichiraku Ramen, Top Ramen, orange, the beach

**threat status**: Boss guy's best friend; Copy Machine Guard)

1. _Nicknames_: Dobe, Baka, Dead Last…and apparently he calls himself 'Foxy'.

2. Officially part of the Konoha Press Family for a little over a year.

3. _Catchphrase/Goal_: "One day I will become governor of Konoha! Believe it!"

_**-**__**SNAP- **_Photo

Dripping wet golden blonde locks, pushed out of suntanned, sun-kissed, freckled face.

Reflecting dark Aviator glasses covering honest blue eyes.

Happy, wide, charismatic, confident yet boyish smile that stretches ear to ear.

Orange, white, and blue surfboard in right palm. Black swim trunks.

Background: Konoha National Beach, waves, seawater, sand, and other various beachgoers

* * *

_**Issue Three**_

_"Do always get that constipated look on your face?"_

* * *

"Sasuke," a deep intimidating voice erupted from the end of the table, immediately catching his younger son's attention. The entire table of four came to a hush when obsidian eyes swept away from well-cooked steak and mashed potatoes, toward the head of the household, meeting the shady brown orbs defiantly.

The eleven year old took a silent breath, averting his eyes lower, away from his father's frosty, analytical and judging eyes. He exhaled almost long enough for it to be considered a tired, weary sigh, and carefully and obediently, he responded, "Yes, Father?"

For some reason, Sasuke knew the words that were going to come out of Fugaku's mouth. They were always the same, maybe worded differently, perhaps in a harsher or lighter tones depending on the day, but the initial shock and pain no longer thudded in his chest as it used to.

He watched carefully, but emptily, a shell just pretending to absorb all the information that he held for years when what he was really doing with it was depositing the news into a dark part of the hollow void in his chest. Tears used to spring in the corners of his eyes, he used to jitter or bounce his leg up and down in a nervous frenzy; sometimes his heart would even speed up in anticipation, hopeful toward different news about _him_ and not _Itachi_.

It was always Itachi. He swallowed thickly, clearing away all the words that were begging to lash off his tongue, erasing the secret thoughts swirling in his mind's mirror. Silently he turned away from Fugaku, grabbing his fork and picking at the potatoes that he had lost appetite for while discreetly biting at his inner cheek in attempt to calm his raging emotions.

"Would you like some more punch, little brother?"

Sasuke snapped his eyes in that direction, glaring with as much anger filled passion as he could muster. His jaw clenched until he felt a metallic tinge on his tongue—blood. A tremor wiped through his spine when he answered with as much control as possible, "No."

All the while, Mikoto silently wondered what happened.

* * *

"I have to copy some papers," Sasuke said suddenly, raising out of his seat and strolling a little too quickly to be labeled as anything other than a speed walk. He stormed so quickly toward Naruto, pulling him out of the office seat by the collar of his ignorantly, brightly, and irritatingly colored orange shirt.

Sakura barely noticed that the blonde chatterbox was missing until the high black meeting hall door slammed closed with a whoosh.

When the coast was completely clear, she was spinning in her chair again, unaware of the luminescent snake eyes watching her.

* * *

Naruto grabbed his neck, holding the cloth-burned side while hissing.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Sasuke?" He yelled, casting numerous aggravated eyes in his direction from the office cubicle area, of which the two had to pass through to get to the Copy Room.

Sasuke had dragged him from the Meeting Hall all the way down the long hallway, to the elevators, refusing even to relax his death grip a miniscule amount then. After the elevators they were met by longer and even twistier halls, private offices, and the most recent, the cubicles.

When the gray boxes disappeared into nothing in his peripheral vision, Naruto wrestled his way out of his shirt, bending at the knee and bringing his shoulders inward, walking out of the orange tee shirt with ease. He couldn't even count how many times he had to bring that method of escape to use.

Sasuke stared at him with eyes that dared him to say anything further, and his knuckles flashed white with his grip on Naruto's shirt, creating even more wrinkles.

Like every good friend should, shirtless or not, Naruto immediately felt concern. "What's wrong, Teme? I didn't do—" then like a switch being turned on, he wasn't a bit confused anymore. "Are you _really_ that pissed about Sakura-chan not remembering you?"

The Uchiha hurled Naruto's shirt at him, a perfect pitch hitting his face squarely, then stalked away, fists balled into his pockets.

Naruto rolled his eyes before catching up with his friend. "I swear you have anger management or something, you freaking Emo," he muttered. "But, seriously, why would you expect her to remember you if you didn't even stay in the district for more than two years? You didn't go to any of the elementary schools in Konoha, or Junior High, and you left after sophomore year. On top of that, you're an emotional bastard that tends to lurk in shadows and run into the nearest bathroom whenever your fan girls chased you! It's not the easiest trying to socialize with you, Sasuke-teme."

"We've talked." Sasuke murmured before turning a corner, completing the square that the building was. He glanced back at Naruto, only to see his suntanned chest bare still. He groaned, "Put on your shirt, dead last."

* * *

Sakura was late; she discovered when she glanced up at the hallway clock, damning that stupid test—even angrier at the fact that she probably did terrible (on her standards) at it, and that made her forget to ask for a pass. As she speed ran to her Journalism class, her little spiral pigtails bounced, probably coming loose from the various pins and rubber bands.

Why did it have to be _today_ that Kurenai-sensei offered her a chance toward writing the main column? Sakura knew that if she weren't in the classroom before the bell rung, in her seat and composed, there was no way that she would still have that opportunity available to her.

She glanced at a couple of stupid Freshmen—ironic that she would say that, especially considering that she swore last year she would never make fun of those poor babies since she knew how they felt—giggling and screaming, holding a piece of black cloth as if it were paper-thin gold, and scoffed. Retards; probably don't even know they're more than five minutes late.

Just as the notion passed her mind, she smacked her forehead. _She_ is more than five minutes late! Ignore the giggling horde of girls!

Sakura snapped her eyes open then. Giggling horde of…?

"Move!" A voice ordered before a tight gripped found a way to her waist, pulling her toward a hidden door and behind it. Her body slammed against a cluttered wall, though it was somehow pillowed by another, muscular body, burning hot against her own.

The sounds of clacking, clicking, heavy heels evaporated, as did the screams of pure ecstasy as the girls turned a corner, down a completely incorrect direction.

Catching her lost breath, Sakura turned to the other person, eyes barely adjusting to the dark light.

She sighed. "Thank you. For saving me from whatever you just saved me from."

Sasuke nodded slightly, rising oddly from the dusty floor of the room, but keeping his eyes looked on the glowing cat like green eyes almost magnetically. He smirked almost to himself, eventually replying "You're welcome," before making his quick exit out of the abandoned classroom, leaving nothing but a shadow of himself in the light.

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_**a/n: **_Don't you just hate that transitional chapter? Gosh…there're the worst in the _world_ to write. But, it's necessary to delve into more of the past, I suppose. I liked writing from Sasuke's and Sakura's 'flashbacks'. It's cool. :)

I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! More than 10 reviews in one chapter! Thanks even more to those who've reviewed since the first chapter. :D

Thank you_** Dizzy0027**__, __**Somber-Lupi**__, __**MYinnerNINJA**__, __**Wiinddance**__, __**MizuiroNeko**__, __**XxXAsianAsaXxX**__, __**tigers-and-dragons**__, __**tsuchiya-sama**__, __**DJ Pocky**__, __**sasuxsaku lover101**__, __**cherry-blossom-101**__, __**melody-berry2**__, __**andtheniwaslike**__, and __**JNXJCNVJD**__! _

Oreo is milk's favorite cookie.

~Lillypop414

_**Review, loves!**_

Pop Quiz!: How old is Sasuke in his flashback?


	4. Chapter 4

**Konoha Press**

_ lillypop414_

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_

Shikamaru Nara _Noun_

(**coolness level**: Basically frozen. As in immobile.

**interests: **Cloud Watching, the occasional game of Shogi

**threat status**: Lazy ass; _Temari no Sabaku_ and_ Ino Yamanaka's _on-again-off-again boyfriend)

1. Family owns the Konoha National Wildlife Park

2. Recent high school graduate with a near-perfect GPA

3. _Catchphrase: "…_Troublesome…"

_**-**__**SNAP- **_Photo

Shiny, midnight black hair jelled into a high ponytail, reminiscent of a pineapple.

Softly toned arms pulled behind his head, resting against the bark of a Maple tree.

Monarch butterfly flying and landing on the tip of his nose.

Closed eyelids.

_Background_: Konoha National Wildlife Park, Deer gardens

* * *

_**Issue Four**_

_"Keep you dirty snake in its _rusty cage, damn it!_"_

* * *

Shikamaru was a cool type of person. When defining the term cool, one could mean popular, sociable, and charismatic, however, this Nara was chilled. It seemed as if nothing could possibly get on his nerve's end, make him stress, or frustrate. He was always calm.

Walking down the downtown sidewalks with his hands stuffed into his pockets, looking up into the practically perfect sky with puffy clouds floating on by without a care in the world, whistling lightly to himself, Shikamaru was skipping on by, brain on autopilot.

Despite the rumors, whatever those may be—he's heard that he was two-timing, had impregnated one while working on the other, and, even that he had a whole warehouse of girls for his picking but had his favorite—the Nara was single, at least for the day, walking nowhere in particular because he had nowhere _to _go.

The park was closed. He had no girlfriend to pretend to listen to while he dozed off. His Dad was hanging out with his own friends instead of with his bored to tears son, trying to obtain the final drops of father-son bonding he could get before he got his own house. And Mrs. Nara…she was tired of _seeing_ him in her house, complaining about him using the excuse of not having a steady, well-paying job, for not having at least an apartment of his own.

Subconsciously, Shikamaru rubbed his cheek, shooting needles of pain running across his face. Troublesome mother of his had forcibly chased him out the front door with the torture apparatuses of a hot skillet and wooden spoon.

He sighed, exhaling a not so wonderful memory, staring at a particular cloud, following its path to wherever it led him.

It wasn't as if he had anywhere _better_ to go than anywhere.

* * *

Sakura slowly stopped spinning, feeling nauseous, yes, but also very suddenly cold, as if she honestly _weren't_ the only being in the huge room. The low hum of the air-conditioned had stopped, too, but it still felt as if it was put on blast, cold enough to freeze Antarctica over. Again. The whole global warming thing is kind of ruining billions years of ice gathering, and, well—

The rosette looked sharply to her right, both shutting her spastic mind up and staring at a door that seemed to lead to another room, and if anything else a closet or storage room. She rose cautiously, still gripping the armrests for some sort of pointless support, and called out.

"Hello? Is…um, anyone in here?"

Her heart raced in her chest, pounding hard and smacking her eardrums, making her throat go dry. Her only reply was an achingly eerie silence, and her options of escape—or someone else's entrance—became vividly evident.

Of course, there were the doors. Even if they were obvious and quite a far way away, a few wide, speedy strides could get her out and (hopefully) safely into the hallway. However, where was she to go after that? She didn't know the building well enough, except for where the elevators were, and even then that was a challenge for her mentally to map out.

Perhaps then it would be wise to choose something like the quaint hiding spot as that door she only just noticed moments ago. It was almost undetectable, practically the exact color as the paint on the walls around it, and there was no door handle. Being logical, that must mean that it only opened one way, or that it was pushed open.

She rose then, feeling quite confident in her choice in concealing, but something struck her, halfway to the doorway.

If _she_ could get in there, who else could?

* * *

Karin was at her desk—like, where else would she be…_seriously_—chewing her favorite flavor of bubblegum while surfing the web. Around this hour, nobody typically came in or out of the building, so she took this as her self-given break.

Scrolling down and observing different styles of boot, she placed a head on her hand, eyes glazed over, unimpressed. One would think that such a fabulous clothing, shoe, and accessory carrier would have more options that intrigued a wider audience than _grandmas_.

Seriously? Where can a redhead find a decent pair of stiletto-heeled zip up minimum knee high black leather boots?

She groaned, agitatedly clicking the 'NEXT' button located at the bottom right corner of the webpage to view more shoes within her requirements.

Three fast dings of the bell perched on the ledge of the receptionist desk ripped her from her steadily rising angry thoughts, and she held up a finger, asking for a moment. She bookmarked her page, as to not lose it later, and turned around, grimacing a moment in the epitome of disgust before managing to utter out the protocol greeting without throwing up.

"And my name is Karin," she finished. "How may I help you today, sir?"

He leaned over, sickly pigmented nose nearly touching her nose, long oily black hair falling over his shoulder and skinning over her planner and other personal papers. His eyes were yellow, wide, and reflective; Karin could see herself mirrored perfectly in them, eyes slightly crossed as to see him correctly, and face slightly dimmed in color. Shock was obviously apparent in her vermillion eyes.

The man smiled, purple markings moving on her his cheeks as he did so. "I need you to do me a favor, dear," he licked his lips with a slimy, oddly colored tongue, keeping her in a trance. "Get me as much information on a person who works here; will you?"

Karin shuddered, trying with all her might to avert her eyes, and staggered out a nervous breath. Images of slaughter, blood, and mutilation were running in the back of her mind, making her blood run cold.

Harshly, she yelled. "I-I—no! I can't do that!"

He rose, shrugging, and allowing the redhead adequate breathing room. "Fine, then. I think it would be in your…liking…to help me, though." His eyes flashed toward Karin's computer before he turned swiftly on his heel, heavy hair swinging from side to side, leaving the establishment that Karin couldn't remember seeing him enter.

When he was a safe distance away, no longer visible through the doors or windows in the lobby, Karin, overcome by her own curiosity, glanced at her computer screen. Her fire red eyebrows knit in confusion.

On the screen were several pictures of a girl with rosy carnation hair, from obviously numerous times and locations, with glowing green eyes that eluded clarity and happiness. Karin could vaguely attach the image with the girl from earlier today, and with the name Sakura.

She scoffed, finally remembering how Sasuke had so blatantly stepped all over her just to help that stupid girl, and started to close the webpage, only to receive an IM from an Unknown contact.

Quickly she read it over, and glanced both ways, then back at the screen, rechecking herself and making sure her eyes just weren't messing with her.

In big, bold and black letters it stated: I'll give you him.

And what she couldn't believe most was that she was almost more than willing to do anything for an offer like that.

* * *

Sakura took a big breath, finally reaching to push the door open, small, alabaster hands making contact with the push-open door with shaky force.

She screamed, ear splitting and reflexively, her bones locking up in shock and eyes widening in complete fear. As her lungs begged for air, she continued screaming, slamming the door closed with all her might, tears plaguing her ears, making a run for the door.

Her mind was on haywire, not even working on normal terms, but on pure adrenaline, and she swiped her belongings up in a fluid motion, pausing not even to gather the flip-flops that she ran out of.

The person had to be right behind her by now—had to.

* * *

_**a/n: **_LOL. I like drama. :)

And for reviewing last chapter...

Thank you_** to fit my underwear**__, __**Snazzy Elle**__, __**MYinnerNINJA**__, __**TigerLilyette**__, __**xhyperanimefreakx**__, __**XxXAsianAsaXxX**__, __**tigers-and-dragons**__, __**tsuchiya-sama**__, __**DJ Pocky**__, __**Akatsuki Sakura Uchiha**__, __**melody-berry2**__, __**andtheniwaslike**__, __**raven rose 101, xoKaiHiwatariloverxo**__,__** cherry-blossom-101**__, __**theAMAZing1**__, __**Orange Sherbert **__and __**Sunaaihana**__! _

Sorry, I couldn't deliver any cookies last time. I was busy. : ( And I hoped I didn't miss anyone. Or spelled any usernames wrong.

~Lillypop414

_**Review, loves!**_

Question: Who do _you _think Sakura saw when she opened the door?


	5. Chapter 5

**Konoha Press**

_lillypop414_

_

* * *

_

Hatake Kakashi _Noun_

(**coolness level**: If the world suddenly decided masks were cool, then, yes, he's amazing.

**interests: **Icha Icha Paradise and all things related

**threat status**: Old family friend to the Uchihas)

1. Most reliable source for latest news stories

2. Pervert—looks up to _Jiraiya, _author of Icha Icha Paradise and its various volumes

3. Extremely horny. THAT IS DIFFERENT FROM PERVERTED!

_**-**__**SNAP- **_Photo

Silvery gray hair defying gravity by standing ultimately vertical. Midnight black mask that covers both one eye and a smiling mouth; crinkled warm gray eye.

Fancy, expensive black penguin suit. One hand in pocket. The other holding an orange book, 'hidden' at his side.

_Background_: Annual _Konoha Press_ faculty gala

* * *

_**Issue Five**__

_"You should really be careful with that paper shredder. It killed my cat last week."_

* * *

A hand slapped onto Sakura's screaming mouth, and she swore she saw her short and honestly uneventful life flash before her eyes. The first time she got a pet, a goldfish named Goldie, when her mother taught her how to ride a two-wheeler, falling onto her head after bouncing too high on Ino's trampoline, being teased in Elementary school because her forehead was just a _tad_ too large.

Then would come Junior High. She remembered all of her teachers and new friends she made, Naruto and Hinata, more specifically Hinata stammering on and on _about_ Naruto at lunch. It was nice, having so many people around her, supporting her, and _real _true friends. She wasn't bullied anymore, and if anything, students would stare at her because her hair was pink, but TenTen would handle that situation quickly with a few harsh words of warning.

High school arrived far too quickly for her own liking, and it ended faster. She almost laughed at it now, and she would have if she weren't about to be _strangled, _but that was when she had her first crush. It was ridiculous, an infatuation with someone she never actually saw. She remembered skipping out of Journalism class, leaving early, or arriving late, just to stand in that hallway, waiting for the fan girl stampede to charge right in her direction.

She would end up in the same room so many times that he would just ask her, "Why don't you just go in the room?" Then, she could swear she saw the smile rise on his face, his lips curling in humor. "Or do you enjoy being touched by me everyday at two-fifteen?"

Then one day in March, on her birthday, she actually walked into the abandoned classroom instead of being hurled in as usual, and he was there, she just knew it—she could feel the heat radiating off his body. Sakura sat right next to him, talking, blabbing about her day and all of its events, knowing that he was listening intently, maybe not to the words but to her voice, the honey smooth pattern and softness.

Suddenly, interrupting one of her sentences, he had cleared his throat, asking, "It's your birthday."

Of course, it wasn't a question. Sakura had smiled at that, how he was too proud actually to use an interrogative tone, and nodded, still giggling, "Yeah. Don't feel bad for not getting me any—"

She was interrupted by his lips covering hers, molding perfectly like two puzzle pieces, and she could still feel every emotion today. The excitement, happiness, nervousness, and pure ecstasy running through her veins. Her waist burned when he pulled her closer, almost tentatively, though seemingly giving into himself and finally holding her.

Too soon, the bell rang and the sweet kisses ended, and out of breath, he managed to stand, lifting her with him.

He'd asked her to remember him, but that seemed almost impossible, even then and especially now, because she never even saw him.

* * *

"Why are you screaming?" A deep tired voice ordered to know, removing his hand and whipping lip gloss off with his dark wash jeans, muttering incoherencies all the while.

Sakura took a staggering breath, pressing a hand to her heart in attempt to calm it as it was racing, and turned around, only to see a green Lacoste polo directly ahead of her. She backed a step away, and took in the whole figure of the man. He was wearing jeans and the polo, a pair of worn dark blue low top Converses on his feet, and a bowl of rice in one of his palms. The white plastic fork dangled on the edge of the Styrofoam bowl, and he seemed to notice, moving it to a safer place before shooting his charcoal eyes in Sakura's direction.

He grimaced. "Well? If you're going to be screaming upon seeing a guy eating his lunch, hurting his ever delicate eardrums, I think the guy has justification to ask _why_." He took a forkful of the white rice, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing, "Am I right, or am I asking you for _way_ too much?"

The rosette knitted her brows, continuing to stare at the young adult, and crossed her arms, subsequently pointing at him. "You're Shikamaru, aren't you?"

"And you're Sakura. Let me know when your done stating the obvious, will you?"

Sakura growled lowly to herself, both pissed because she allowed the douche that broke up with her best friend once again scare the living daylights out of her like that, and because he was getting under her skin without a second thought about it. He was staring at the sky, now, from the window, walking the perimeter of the meeting room as if it were something he did everyday.

Defeated, Sakura plopped into her chair, and placed her head on her head. Apparently, she wasn't in the room alone, though technically she was. Shikamaru was just in the 'secret' office, chilling and eating plain rice without anything else. Confused, she cocked her head toward him, asking, "How'd you get in the secret office?"

Shikamaru shrugged, not bothering to look at her. "It's not secret if the door is left unlocked and it's on the Directory labeled as Confidential Office."

"I guess so," She agreed, nodding lightly. "Hey, can I ask you a question?

His answer was silence, presumably because he was in the middle of eating or lost in some spacey world, and Sakura continued with her question. "Why did you break up with Ino-chan this time? If it has something to do with that sand _bitch_, then don't bother telling me—"

Harshly, or as harsh as he would probably ever speak, he answered. "I can't decide. That's all."

* * *

It had been at least thirty minutes Sakura was in there, having completely pointless conversation with the Nara, about how the stupid receptionist didn't even notice him walk past her, how today would be the absolute perfect day to go kite-flying or to the beach, and about the newspaper all together.

Sakura perched her feet up on the table, opening a chocolate bar—who knew in that coffee table drawer in the corner that there was more _candy _than any child would ask for—and eating it, leaning back in the chair.

"You know what I read on Google," she started, glancing at the Nara, who was enjoying his own bag of Skittles.

He rolled his eyes, popping a couple multicolored fruit candies in his mouth. "I don't know. What?"

Sakura sat up, getting in her gossip position. "So, apparently, Mr. Uchiha thinks that—"

Just as she was about to get into the story, a series of beeps reached her ears, and reflexively she glanced toward a telephone, a red light flashing on it.

"Should I answer it?" She asked him in a hushed voice, as if the person on the other end of the receiver could actually hear her. She knew it was a silly thing to do, but it felt rather appropriate, considering the events that had already occurred today. Things seemed like they were revolving and happening around her, and she was stuck in a box, unaware of everything else going on.

Shikamaru looked her over, laughing dryly to himself. "It won't spontaneously combust, Sakura. Answer it already."

She grumbled, "Fine," before picking the telephone off it's receiver, and singing, "Hello?"

"_Hello_. _Is this Haruno Sakura?_"

Sakura glanced toward Shikamaru, who just rolled his eyes, and sighed. "Yes it is. May I ask what it is you called me for?"

"_Yes. Sasuke-sama requests you to meet him and Uzumaki-san at the front desk in fifteen minutes._"

"Oh. Okay then…thanks."

"_Goodbye, Sakura-san._"

The rosette carefully put the phone back on it's holder, and turned to Shikamaru, who was looking at her with curious eyes and raised eyebrows.

Sakura shrugged, biting her lip. "Apparently Naruto and some guy named Sasuke want to go somewhere in fifteen minutes."

* * *

"You look nervous, teme."

"Shut up."

"No; you look seriously nervous. Look at you with you raking through your hair and walking around in circles."

"…_Naruto_."

"Sasuke. I mean, damn. It's like you think this 'business meeting' is actually a 'date'. Or is it a 'date' that's being covered up with the label 'business meeting'."

"Air quotes over every other word you say is pointless Naruto."

"Oh, look, it's Sakura-chan!"

"Where?"

"Made you look."

"Hn."

* * *

_**a/n: **_Sorry. Not much happened this chapter, but, I think it was funny how you all thought it was Itachi, Karin, Orochimaru, Suigetsu (?), Kisame (?) or Shino (XD). So, yeah, it was Shikamaru.

And for reviewing last chapter...

Thank you_** Appropriate Exclamation**__, __**Snazzy Elle**__, __**MYinnerNINJA**__, __**cutecookiechick**__, __**XxXAsianAsaXxX**__, __**tsuchiya-sama**__, __**DJ Pocky**__, __**Akatsuki Sakura Uchiha**__, __**andtheniwaslike**__, __**Sam-AKA-SakuxSasuLover**__, __**Sadbrowneyes976 **__and __**illneverknow**__! _

I hope I didn't miss anyone. Or spelled any usernames wrong.

~Lillypop414

_**Review, loves!**_

Question: OMG! Sakura and Sasuke _kissed_! But…Sakura doesn't know it was Sasuke…:(


	6. Chapter 6

Konoha Press

_ lillypop414

* * *

_

Yamanaka Ino! _Noun_

(**coolness level**: …are you even _asking_ that idiotic, unnecessary, and stupid question?

**interests: **Shopping, flowers, playing matchmaker, hanging out, and more…!

**threat status**: _Haruno Sakura_'s best friend in the, like, seriously, universe.)

1. Beautiful, vivacious blonde bombshell with a snarky mouth like a whip

2. Co-owner of the family flower shop, _Yamanaka Flowers_

3. Extremely close to many businessmen due to unknown reasons… (wink-wink-push-push-SHOVE)

_**-**__**SNAP- **_Photo

Honey golden blond hair slicked into a high ponytail, a long bang framing the left side of her porcelain face. One daisy twirling between a fore and middle finger, resting on beautiful cheekbones.

Light blush and fresh eye shadow, barely any eyeliner, shiny cotton candy lip-gloss decorating smiling lips. Inviting warm baby blue eyes.

_Background_: White, advertisement for _Yamanaka Flowers_ 2008

* * *

_**Issue Six**_

_"Catch a falling car and put it in your garage; never let it rust away."_

* * *

The clock was ticking in an annoying _click-clock_ pattern, a woman was walking back and forth, high heels clacking against the dark marble flooring, the man across from him was tapping his foot up and down, humming a recognizable but irritating tune, a little girl was practicing on her whistling while running around the black leather couch like an airplane, his own finger was tapping on the glass coffee table, leaving a dull _thrum _to echo in his keen and sharp ears.

The sounds were amplified, specifically the red second hand spinning on the clock, the sharp tick noise making his head pound sixty times a minute.

Discreetly, he bit the inside of his lip, leaning further into the couch while sighing.

Almost immediately, he knew that wasn't the smartest decision in the world to make. Before he could count to three, Naruto's annoyingly loud and booming voice decided to make itself known.

"You know, teme, I think that you're being stood up."

Sasuke let his eyebrow furrow. It had only been sixteen minutes—sixteen _raking_ minutes, sixty seconds late, _one minute_ after the time which he could've stopped counting the seconds until she showed—and that's hardly long enough to be considered 'stood up'. She was rushing down the stairs, he told himself, or confused on what floor the Main Lobby was on, perhaps she got caught up…doing nothing.

He was being stood up.

Naruto glanced over his friend's sudden change in posture. Sure, it wouldn't have been noticeable to anyone else, but _he_ could tell that the ice cube had tensed, that he was sweating in a nervous frenzy, and that his mind was having a debate with itself over the simplest things.

The blonde male smiled, clapping a large hand over Sasuke's shoulder. "Calm _down_, Sauce. She's coming, okay? I know my Sakura-chan—trust me."

To that, Naruto just received a glare. For _many_ reasons.

* * *

Shikamaru replayed what the girl had just said in his mind. _Some guy named Sasuke_…._Sasuke…_

He cleared his throat, lifting his right brow. "Sasuke like Sasuke Uchiha that went to our high school Sasuke Uchiha?"

Sakura paused in gathering her things from the carpeted floor, poking her head up to the edge of the table. She shrugged before rising out of her crouch, her knees popping in refusal one solid time. Dusting off her hands, she replied. "I don't know. It sounds familiar, I guess."

The Nara let his mouth hang wide. "Do you _have_ short term?"

"Excuse me?" Sakura asked sharply, plopping a hand on her hip and narrowing her emerald orbs in the direction of the brunet.

Shikamaru tossed another Skittle in his mouth before continuing, pausing to chew every so often. "You would talk about him day in and day out, to fifth period, from fifth period, in Science, in Calculus, in the hallway, always about him. It's one of the main things I remember about high school."

The rosette scrunched her face in confusion, "Him _who_?"

"Sasuke!" Shikamaru almost yelled, only to stop short to calm himself, rubbing his temples. He could hardly believe that in the span of two years and a few months—if he could _give_ her that—that the girl had completely forgotten about the ice cube. No; he _couldn't _believe it, not one bit. Not when, while they would walk together to the classes they shared, she would talk his ear off about 'the guy who saved me from the fan girl stampede' and how 'utterly delicious he is' and 'omigod do you believe that an _Uchiha_ even pays attention to _me_'.

Sakura stared at her friend for minutes on end, only to scratch her cheek with her forefinger, averting her gaze to the wall. "Yeah…whatever you say, Shikamaru. I'll catch you later, gator."

Shikamaru watched the rosette turn to leave, silently wondering what was going on with his friend, and as the tall black door clicked closed, he decided that he was going to find out.

* * *

Sakura stepped out of the elevators taking a long, deep inhale, trying to please her deprived lungs. She had sped-walked in circles for almost ten minutes, if not longer, only to discover that she had passed the lifts approximately fifteen times. When she found the extravagant hallway, there was a lengthy line, people trying to upstairs and down, and, being the compassionate, caring person she was, she let everyone in front of her saying 'she had no need to rush'.

_That is the exact reason why I am now rushing_, she mentally huffed, trying to fix up her hair at least a little bit, and sighed happily when she passed by a mirror.

She looked at her reflection, examining all the flaws with a critical eye, groaning while she threw her tote bag onto the small end table in front of the mirror. She fished through the crumpled sheets of her work, snacks, candy she had stolen, and finally reached her makeup bag. Sakura began applying some cover-up, only to start feeling self-conscious of what she was doing—no, who was watching what she was doing.

A man with gravity defying silver hair was leaning against a wall, hands in his pockets, staring at her with one coal black eye fixed on her face. A smile split onto his lips when he pushed off the wall, and Sakura panicked, hurriedly putting together all her belongings and stuffing them into her purse.

Just when she turned around to sprint toward the main area of the lobby, he was in front of her, smiling lightly beneath his mask.

"Hello," he greeted smoothly, sticking out an alabaster hand.

Sakura took it gingerly. "Um, hi…what's up?"

Slightly aware of the fact that she really did sound like a high school graduate just then, she paused in shaking his hand for a slight second, though he didn't seem to notice her professionalism foible. When the gesture of meeting was over, Sakura slid her hand into the pocket of her pants, somewhat expectant.

The man smiled. "Nothing much, really, I was just wondering where I've seen you before—you seem familiar…"

"My name is Sakura," she blurted with an unnecessary goofy grin, "if that helps any."

He nodded. "And I'm Kakashi. Come—walk with me; I'm assuming you're here because of my nephew?"

The rosette stared blankly, following Kakashi even though she had no idea who he was talking of. Who was his nephew? He seemed nice enough, if not a little perverted—she caught him stealing glances every so often—but every male has a little of that in him, she supposed.

Therefore, she followed him, feeling that it would be a mighty coincidence of this man was actually referring to Naruto or Sasuke.

* * *

Sasuke was pacing.

He was pacing.

_He_ was pacing.

Pacing.

Walking back and forth, running his hands through ebony hair, rubbing his eyes, going through emotional tantrums of which he released on random vases and flowerpots. Naruto was watching intently with amused blue eyes, sipping his overly caffeinated coffee every so often, wondering when it was that his best friend was going to lose it, because then he would take out his cell phone, tape it, then post it on Facebook for the world to see.

It was then that Sasuke finally decided to stop. He walked over to the couch, and took a seat, crossing his leg.

He sighed, "I hired the wrong girl."

"…Nani?" Naruto questioned, honestly taken aback. What did Sasuke mean 'he hired the wrong girl'? Sakura was definitely the girl on the resume picture, and the one explained within the written text. If there was only one thing Naruto knew, it was one of his best friend's writing voices; it was just like her own, with better grammar and fancier vocabulary.

Sasuke interlaced his fingers, resting his head at the base, a fore and middle finger poking his forehead. His eyes were far away, almost vacant.

"Hn. I said what I meant, dobe. I hired the _wrong_ girl, because, obviously, Sakura isn't the same one from high school. It's blatantly apparent at this point."

The blonde boy looked at his friend, hints of concern sparkling in his eyes. Sasuke actually looked disappointed, in a way, and if it wasn't disappointment, there definitely some sort of emotion written clearly on his face.

Naruto asked, "What makes you say that, Sasuke-teme?"

The answer was easy to find, and Naruto found it by simply following Sasuke's gaze to a rosette, laughing and smiling brightly, walking side by side with—

"Dude, she's with your _uncle_!"

Sasuke grunted, shooting up from the couch, steam practically fuming from his ears.

Naruto sighed; it was practically guaranteed that Sasuke was going to be a hormonal bitch for the rest of the day now.

* * *

**a/n: **:L I'm sorry this was so late. I've been back to school and the homework and sports practice schedules are leaving me with practically no time to write. I am _really_ sorry.

On a better note, less apathetic, one could say, I did update. I was seriously contemplating on whether or not I should have Kakashi be Itachi or not, but then decided I could have the brotherly competition later on.

Questions…I'll answer them.

I thank everyone for reviewing last chapter, it's a little too late for me to be trying to write each of your guys' names down at the moment—it's like, my bed time (LOL, jk)—and that will guarantee plenty of mess up.

BUT! I do offer a prize to my…90th reviewer…and the prize is….

A ONESHOT!

No limits. You choose the pairing, the basic plot, the length, the EVERYTHING. All I do is _write_ it. If I am, for some reason, unable to meet your requirements, I'll PM you.

As for now, I bid you all a glorious goodbye.

~Lillypop414

_**Review, loves! **_


	7. Chapter 7

Konoha Press

_ lillypop414

* * *

_

Orochimaru

_Information on the requested patron is no longer available. We apologize for any inconveniences. _

_To receive an email on when information on _Orochimaru_ is available, click the link below.

* * *

_

_**Issue Seven**__

_"Slivery Snakes, Hot (abandoned) Homerooms, and Leaky Lines."_

* * *

A sixteen-year-old Sakura lay sprawled out on the grassy lawn of her schoolyard, head rested casually on her backpack as she stared at the beautiful clouds, though quite pointlessly. She, no matter how hard she tried, couldn't understand the 'magical' or 'soothing' attribute that supposedly came from watching the white fluff, but she tried nevertheless.

One kind of looked like a bunny rabbit if she were to twist her head this way, squint, and contort her whole face in this fashion that made everything else in turn look—

"What _are_ you doing, Sakura?"

Short, quick, and to the point with a tired 'I could and would be anywhere than here…' voice questioned, and Sakura sighed, slowly rolling her eyes to the left and toward familiar worn low-top Converse.

She shrugged, rising from the grass, and looking the lazy genius in the eye—of which, admittedly, was a challenge with the height ratio leaning heavily on his side—she scoffed. "What did it _look_ like I was doing, Shikamaru-bum?"

Before the mentioned teen could combat his retort, the school intercoms screeched on, sounds of ruffling papers and hushed voices the first to fill the schoolyard. All of the loitering students came to a quiet, accustomed to silencing whenever the speakers came on. It had been drilled into them freshman year, after all.

It screeched into audible words, and finally into the distinguishable voice of their principal, the ever-wonderful Tsunade-sama. "Good afternoon students and faculty. First and foremost, I apologize for interrupting classes and lunches, but Orochimaru-sensei requests to see a group of students at their earliest convenience within their lunch hours in his Lab Room 209. Listen up for your ID numbers...19201, 19265, 20871, and 19345. That is all for now, and make today a great day to be a Golden Tiger."

Sakura chewed her sandwich thoughtfully, wiping mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth before speaking.

"We have the gayest mascot ever," she murmured, not even sparing a glance toward her lunch buddy, too consumed with examining her sub. "I mean, honestly, as if the tiger wasn't homosexual on its own—"

Shikamaru interrupted her, sounding as if he weren't even listening to her one-sided conversation from the get-go. "Isn't your ID number 19345?" He asked.

The rosette removed a tomato from the sandwich, muttering about how she was going to mutilate her mother if she kept on putting those red demons in her sandwiches, and lolled her head to the side, thinking. A few moments later, she nodded, emerald eyes confused and wide.

"Uh-huh. What's with the random question asking?"

"Tsunade-sama just made an announcement saying that she wanted a group of people to go to Orochimaru-sensei's dungeon during lunch and you were named in that group."

Sakura continued staring blankly. "And? You can't honestly expect me to go in a room alone with that rapist creep mega freak with me and maybe, at most, four people as back up back slash witnesses. I could get mentally scarred or something, if not molested."

The genius scoffed, "What if he's offering you guys extra credit? I know you're one of the smartest in my Chem. class, and, of the numbers that I've heard and know, everyone else is as smart as, if not smarter, than you are. You should really stop being so dramatic, either way."

"I'm not going," she deadpanned, an aura of complete surety in her dainty voice. "So there, you pineapple head doo-doo-face."

* * *

Sakura found her self face to face with the thick wooden door, two palms pressed to her back and forcing her forward, pushing her almost.

She could hardly believe that stupid barf had actually forced her all the way to second floor.

"Knock," Shikamaru demanded, all patience audibly drained. "I have a _class_ to get to. You know, to get my _education_."

The anger boiled in Sakura's skin, and she could bet all of her nonexistent lunch money that her blood was bubbling hot, as aggravated as she was. Like a tired toddler, she stomped on the linoleum floors of the high school before whipping her hand out and yanking heavy door open.

Revealed to her was who had to be the hottest being on the planet second to Orlando Bloom—well, you know, in his 'Pirates' days. That was yummy.—in skinny jeans and a black t-shirt. Unconsciously her mouth fell into a pretty letter o as she gaped.

Maybe it was the fact that she was closer to Sasuke Uchiha than any girl in the history of females had ever been, or perhaps it was that he wasn't scowling yet, or scoffing and muttering, asking her rudely to get the hell out of his way.

A blush crawled its way up her cheeks, and she smiled. It was odd, she had to admit, seeing him anywhere other than their room. (It was their room. The ownership papers saying it belongs to the school are fraud.)

Sakura whispered a quiet, "Excuse me," before sliding past him, closing the door silently behind her.

Butterflies had all decided to migrate to her stomach. For seriously.

* * *

"You wanted to see me, Orochimaru-sensei?" Sakura questioned, walking meekly up to the man's desk.

He seemed to be deeply engorged in an experiment of some sort, goggles resting over his yellow eyes, rubber gloves slapped onto pale hands, hair tied in a ponytail. He was reading over something in a book when Sakura reached the tall table, and when she prepared to repeat her question, he lifted a finger, hushing her.

_Rude_, Sakura mumbled. _You wanted me to come to your room, snake face_.

Electric blue liquid bubbled in an Erlenmeyer flask, and it seemed intriguing to Sakura, drawing her eyes magnetically to its glowing neon color. A light gassy steam escaped from the top, and abruptly the teacher snapped a rubber stopper over the hole.

Sakura jumped at the sound, being ripped from her slight hypnosis.

The man seemed to notice, smiling lightly. "I apologize, Sakura-san. It would just be terrible if too much of that gas was to escape, you know."

The rosette shrugged, waving a hand. "It's no problem, then. Good you got it closed," she grinned. "So…what's up?"

Orochimaru ignored her question, lifting the book he was reading from into his arms, taking careful precaution to cover the title, Sakura noted, though she thought nothing of it. That could just be a coincidence that she felt uber awkward and trapped, that he was carrying an old fairytale look-a-like book, walking around in circles, encircling her, and covering the title of said book.

It could just be a recipe book from the 50s with Chemistry experiments in it.

"My book says here that the gas escaping from that flask there can be extremely dangerous, entrancing any one person within a fifty foot diameter of the flask in what some would call a spell."

Sakura laughed nervously, scratching her head. "Interesting, it seems like."

The teacher chuckled. "Yes, I think so. It also says here that the caster of the spell has complete control over the person's memories and even some of their thoughts—what they know and don't know, _who_ they don't know and don't…even who they _will_ remember in the future. All the caster has to do is say the magic words and the spell," he snapped, "it works like magic."

Uncomfortably, Sakura shifted, forcing a smile. "Well, then, what are the magic words?"

"I would never tell _you_, darling. That defies the purpose of casting the whole spell, does it not?"

* * *

_**One Week Before**_

Sasuke was waiting, somewhat impatiently, for her to arrive. Sure, sure, they were already past that line of friends, actually far past it, but this was different.

It was all different. Before, she couldn't see him, and he couldn't see her. Some stupid janitor had finally decided to fix the lighting in the room, so now he couldn't rely on the excuse of the lights not working whenever she asked why they would always sit in the dark.

What if she was ugly? Sasuke found himself thinking up questions like these, and, it wasn't as if they mattered at this point, but they did seem kind of important. Even if he…liked…her, it did matter if she was an ugly hag or not. Imagine him walking down the hallway with his arm wrapped around the shoulders of someone as atrocious as Naruto's godfather.

That would be the end of his social status, the end of his high-ego having some justification.

When the door handle turned, turned ever so slowly, his heart rate speed up increasingly, charcoal eyes widening considerably.

He couldn't run now, even if he had a stinging urge at this point to do so, and as if Kami finally decided to lend him some relief, the girl walked in, a light smile on her face.

Sasuke looked at her, the skinny jeans covering short but cute legs, leading to the soft curves of her hips, made even softer by her tiny waist. She was wearing a green polo shirt, probably from some store that let partially nude models walk about for pay, and a sparkly silver necklace looped around a porcelain face.

"Um…hi," she said quietly, absorbed in the same time bubble as he, taking in all the information hurling at her from all directions.

She had been macking with _Sasuke Uchiha_! WHAT?

It was definitely decided now. She was going to have a name to put in her diary, and a hell of a story to tell the girls.

Seemingly reading her thoughts, the beauty took two long strides, just centimeters from touching Sakura's body.

He cupped her face with his hand, brushing his thumb on her cheek. "Don't tell anyone," his eyes melted into hers like chocolate, swirling around in cocoa bliss. "Not yet."

Sakura, wholly overwhelmed by it all, could do nothing but smile like an idiot, giggling. "Oh my god, you're Sasuke. Ino would freaking shave my head, decapitate me, then throw the remains in the lake on Deer if she knew."

Sasuke just smirked, planting a light kiss on her forehead.

* * *

"You got a tattoo?"

"…Aa."

"Hm. It looks kind of cool. Did it hurt?"

"Yes."

"What shop did you get it at? My mom said that I could get one if I did really well on my next final—"

"_Sakura_."

"Sorry."

"Hn."

* * *

**a/n: **YAY! Update during the week. I feel good, even though this did take me a few days to pump out.

Thanks for reviewing…

_Chapter Five_

_**tsuchiya-sama, Luna Rei Harmony, Ari Utani, kizumichan, Eloise, MYinnerNINJA, melody-berry2, Snazzy Elle, DJ Pocky, Akatsuki Sakura Uchiha, andtheniwaslike, LOLS, xoKaiHiwatariloverxo, XxXAsianAsaXxX, ravenrose101, cherry-blossom-101, **__and __**cutecookiechick**_

_Chapter Six_

_**melody-berry2, cherry-blossom-101, xanimecookie101, tsuchiya-sama, Akatsuki Sakura Uchiha, andtheniwaslike, Wiinddance, BrazilianCherryBlossom, raven rose 101, **__and __**cutecookiechick**_

I don't remember if I mentioned chapter four's reviewers or not. If I didn't I apologize. : )

~Lillypop414

_**Review, loves!**_

(and the plot thickens again…) 


	8. Chapter 8

**Konoha Press**

_ lillypop414_

_

* * *

_

Yukabushi TenTen _Noun!_

(**coolness level**: In all honesty, TenTen isn't all that cool. She just pretends to be kick ass then reverts to lameness when she has the time…that she does not.

**interests: **Kickboxing, Archery, Tae Kwon Do, Karate, MMA Fighting-watching and participating, Playing as a Disney Character, and, of course, _gossiping~~_

**threat status**: Family owns a weaponry shop, and she knows how to use those weapons. Like all of them.)

1. Originally from the Sound Country, TenTen has many family members in the country, considering that only she and her parents live in Konoha. The majority of her family lives, though plans to move away from, Sound.

2. Nineteen year old weapons and fighting specialist devoted to the fitness of her brain and body, the teen has almost no time to spend on her own will, juggling work at _The Hokage Mansion_ restaurant, and her demanding work out schedule. She dreams of becoming something more than her past generations have ever thought to accomplish. What specifically, is still unknown.

3. For potential relationships, see _Hyuuga Neji_

_**-**__**SNAP- **_Photo

Dangling medals, from perches on the wall, green, orange, red, and yellow stitching making a necklace over them. Glistening golden, silver and bronze trophies with molds of various forms of kicking, punching, or standing with arms determinedly to sides showcased proudly on stuffed shelves.

Smiling lips on a suntanned honey face, deep chocolate brown eyes, and darker brown, wavy hair barely touching shoulders. Puffy cheeks from baby fat pinching in at dimples.

Black t-shirt, purple belt, white pants.

_Background: _A young _TenTen's _bedroom, approx. age 9

* * *

_**Issue Eight**_

_"May I retake your order with my sexy face on?"_

* * *

Sakura had never seen a scarier look take home on a face as, admittedly, gorgeous and somewhat familiar as her new boss's face. All he did was narrow his eyes a fraction of a centimeter together, and even the densest of people could sense the upcoming danger. Naruto sat slowly on the armrest of a chair, looking at his twiddling thumbs with concentrated attention.

Suddenly, the rosette felt as if she walked in on a very awkward conversation. Either that or she was what was making things awkward. A wave of apprehension splashed over her, instinct telling her that the death glare was pointedly aimed in her direction. Looking around the lobby and seeing no one else aware of their presence—a few people chatting on impressive cell phones, leather business shoes squeaking on the marble as they rushed to meetings, businesswomen fixing makeup in the mirror—Sakura considered what would happen next.

She dared a glance upward, toward the silver-haired man who had escorted her some yards to where they stood now, under a scrutinizing gaze. Kakashi bore an amused glint in his gray eye sent a fair pink eyebrow hiking up. What was so humorous about a teenage CEO glaring at you?

The answer slapped Sakura in the face.

"What's up, Duck-ass?" The older man called as he closed the gap between them and the two best friends. With each nearing step he took, Sakura found herself revisiting scenes from Death Row flashing in her mind. Kakashi grasped Sasuke's clenched hand, forcing it into a handshake. "I like your suit. Armani?"

Sasuke released a tight breath. "Versace. I would ask why you're here, but that wouldn't make you leave."

Naruto's blue eyes widened. Sakura's jaw dropped. Sasuke's jaw tightened. Kakashi, on the other hand, split his mouth into a grin. "Is that any way to greet your uncle, now?"

* * *

After the initial shock of Kakashi being—something became blatantly apparent to the rosette then. She didn't even know the name of her boss. He having had run out of the meeting hall to copy papers with Naruto (even though he didn't have papers in his hand _to _copy) she never discovered his name. Of course, Shikamaru, who probably still roamed the offices, had told her that he called himself 'Sasuke', but she couldn't say she quite trusted him anymore. Breaking up with her best friend every week as if it were printed schedule and all kind of ruined their friendship, if not strained.

She was seated on one of the nice black leather couches that felt _wonderful_ in between the armrest and Naruto, who had slid into the seat after much bickering from the redheaded receptionist. "So," Sakura drawled, breaking a long stretched silence, bound to break any second by either herself of Naruto. All eyes flicked onto her, some more irritated than others were. "What's on the schedule? I've only had a few jobs in journalism—" more like zero, something reminded her, "—but I've never been called down to talk to the CEO on the first day before. Am I in trouble?"

Sasuke plopped his head onto his hand, dropping the pin that held the pressure tight around the lobby. It seemed everyone took a relieved breath. "I had a dinner planned," he clarified.

"Oh, that's nice!" Sakura exclaimed. "Do you do this with all your interns?"

Naruto burst into laughter quickly doused by a sharp glance in his general direction. Before the rosette could consider this action odd, a loud gong rang near her ear. Her knobby knees shook, and through strangled breaths, Karin managed to utter, "The limo's outside. Have a good time; when you get back, you have a meeting, Sasuke-san."

No one missed the purr the girl added to his name, or the disgusted snarl that exited Sasuke's lips.

* * *

TenTen leaned against a doorframe, tanned arms crossed in defiance. The kitchen of _Hokage's Mansion _restaurant was bustling with action, and had she been millimeters to the left, she would be getting slapped with the swinging doors every so many seconds. Instead, her figure appeared and disappeared, the white door hiding her short form. A cell phone balanced on her forearms, and her brown eyes trained themselves on the screen.

Any second it would buzz to life. It was already 7: 01 and he was supposed to text her at seven! Never once a day in her life had this happened before. It was unnerving. Of course, being the way she was, her mind automatically jumped to conclusions. Perhaps he got ran over. Maybe he ran somebody over. That would mean he was in jail! Oh…then he was in some serious trouble! He was a pretty boy! Do you know what happens to pretty boys when they're in the slammer?

She needed to leave and find out what was going on here.

The girl turned her head toward the left, watching the pattern of entering and exiting waiters with a careful eye. During a break in the pattern, she slipped out of the corner, sliding her phone screen up once again, unlocking it. She could've missed the message alert while musing with her own thoughts. It was loud enough in here for her to do that, anyway. She clicked buttons until she saw her messaging screen. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. That's odd. It was 7: 02 now.

"Hey! Watch where you're go—"

Plates clattered as the brunette collided with one of the top servers. The meal, more specifically an appetizer platter solicited on page three, sold for $11.95 spun in the air. Between sputtering sorry, brown eyes watched as the spinach dip bowl spun in the air, spiraling in swirls. She watched in slow motion as the waitress yelled and scolded her for ignoring her rant the bowl circle toward the girl and gasped in horror.

She stuffed her phone in her pocket and waved her hands. "Th-The spinach is…uh—no I wasn't interrupting, but—it's; look up and you'll see…I am _so _sorry!"

The yellow pottery flipped perfectly onto Ami's head and the green vegetable dip perfectly contrasted the angry red of the blush inhabiting her face. The more appraised worker went off like a ticking time bomb jumping into the air in fury. "Are you freaking serious!"

"I—"

"No; are you freaking _kidding me?_"

TenTen scratched the side of her face. "I really do apologize…," she said, avoiding the livid eyes of the girl. She was pacing, clenching and unclenching her fists. TenTen wasn't afraid of a fight with the much thinner girl, no, she could pound her into pieces with one hand tied behind her back and eyes blindfolded. Ami could decide her job status with a snap of her finger if she desired to do so. And TenTen needed this job.

Ami grumbled lowly, callously jabbing a finger between TenTen's eyes. "Listen here and listen closely. You are so lucky that I had a hair appointment set for tomorrow morning or else I would be having you cut faster than that dumbass from American Idol."

A pregnant pause filled the kitchen, one TenTen was too wary to occupy. Instead she waited for the rest of what the girl in front of her had to say. "In order to suffice for your clumsiness, I want you to man my table."

The brunette's face dropped, past being business polite. "You know you get the hardest clients' tables!" she yelled.

"Exactly. Do you _want _me going out there, serving celebrities, with spinach dip in my hair?" She left no space for TenTen to answer the question, though the girl did open her mouth to do just that. "I thought so. Table 36; four adults. They ordered this appetizer like fifteen minutes ago so I'd hurry if I were you, Yukabushi."

With that a silken apron was thrown at TenTen, along with a pen and pad.

Ami came back into her field of vision, street clothes on, seconds later.

"Uchihas don't like to wait, I hear," she advised.

* * *

A/N: I don't have anything to say...soooo...

Thanks for reviewing last chapter everyone who did!

**_Review, loves!_**


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